“Sense have I come for?”
“Yes, if you please.”
“Why, I am telling you, man! Being in search of a suitable farm, I have been traveling about these parts considerable. Last night I came here and put up at ‘The Stag.’ Good house that!”
“Pretty good. Yes.”
“Well, I did hear of a rum case. The body of that young woman being found, and there being a distressing doubt whether it be that of young Mrs. Tudor Hereward, who disappeared from the neighborhood on the 21st of last March, or that of a little gypsy tramp, who bore a great personal resemblance to that lady, and who was suspected of having been made way with by her ruffian of a husband!”
“Yes, yes,” eagerly exclaimed the doctor, all his listless indifference vanished. “Yes! You have heard of that affair. You have been traveling about in this region. Is it possible that you may be able to throw some light on that dark subject?”
“I think I may; that is what has brought me here this morning. Perhaps I ought to have gone out to the place they call the Cliffs to see Mr. Tudor Hereward himself; but they told me it was a matter of six miles from the village, and that perhaps I had better see you, as you were interested; and so here I am.”
“I am very glad you did. Now tell me quickly what you have to tell, for I am extremely anxious to hear,” said the doctor, eagerly.
“Wait a bit! Let us see how the land lies first. You say young Mrs. Hereward and the gypsy girl looked alike?”
“In size, figure, and the unusual length and beauty of their hair—yes!”